Gradually, Swiftly, Haltingly Getting There
by JamiW
Summary: Fifth in the Normal Life series, post-ep 10.8


**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"You lied?"<p>

"Well…I…yeah," I managed to say.

She wanted me to elaborate, but I couldn't.

The insinuation was as close as I could offer her right now, and I was actually pretty proud of myself for saying that much.

So instead of saying anything more, I kissed her again.

Deep, purposeful, intense…it made my head swim.

I love how she completely throws herself into each kiss. There's nothing half-ass about Alex, that's for sure.

Of course, I don't do anything part way either, so between the two of us, it was nearly a competition to see who could have control, who could make the other one moan with unadulterated pleasure.

I won.

At least this particular time.

We were about fifty-fifty overall.

When we finally pulled apart, she slowly opened her eyes and met my gaze.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked quietly.

"Where do you want to go?"

"I'm in your hands, remember?"

Alex and her double entendres.

I'd _like_ for her to be in my hands.

I'd like to reach beneath her dress, with _both_ hands this time, and feel more of that wonderfully soft skin.

I'd like to…

"Bobby?" she asked when my wandering mind kept me from responding to her remark.

When did she get so irresistible?

And when did I start having so much trouble stifling my urges?

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

It took me another minute to actually move around to my side of the car, because of course I had to kiss her again, and then I waited while she got into her seat, during which time she unintentionally – _or intentionally_? – flashed me a lovely display of leg that caught my attention for an extra moment and sent my mind back down the path of just _exactly_ what I wanted to do to her if I could ever get her alone in a private setting.

"So…your place?" she asked me once I started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"Do you want to stop and get something to eat first?" I asked, and then I mentally berated myself.

Eat?

Did I _really_ just say that?

Because there was no way in the world I was seriously thinking about food.

I mean, she was handing me the keys, the _real_ keys this time, and I was going to waste precious time with something trivial like sustenance?

"No," she answered as she deliberately set her hand on my thigh, causing me to push down on the gas pedal harder than necessary. "We'll think about dinner…later."

Later.

_After_ we…

"Unless you don't want to…" she began, now sounding somewhat uncertain.

_Way to go, Goren. Make her think you don't want her._

She started retracting her hand from my leg, but I put my hand over hers and held it in place.

"I want to," I said quickly.

Her hand stilled beneath mine, and so then I returned my hand to the wheel, enjoying the slightly risqué feeling of her touch on my thigh.

"Okay," she said with a nod. "So…thanks for today."

She was thanking me.

As far as I was concerned, I should be thanking _her_ because coming to Canarsie had been therapeutic for me.

It's funny how things seem different when approached from another perspective.

Like Alex said, places from our childhood seem smaller when we go back as adults.

People seem less frightening.

Nightmares seem insignificant.

It made me wish I'd come back to visit sooner.

But then again, maybe it had to be now.

And maybe it had to be with Alex.

"You know," she continued. "I thought I knew you pretty well, but this afternoon has shown me another side of you."

"My criminal side?" I teased.

"Your youthful side," she corrected. "Everyone does things as teenagers that they're not particularly proud of."

"Everyone?" I asked with interest.

"Uh huh," she agreed with a smile, leaning closer to me so that her hand slid more towards the inside of my thigh.

Maybe I should rethink this whole me-driving thing.

Because with her hand so close to one particular part of me, I was only partially focused on the road.

And by partially, I mean about five percent.

Another ten percent of me was participating in our conversation.

The remaining eight-five was cataloging the feel of her hand and analyzing the possibility of it moving even closer to _exactly_ where I wanted it to be.

And granted, I didn't necessarily want it there while I was _driving_, but…like I said, that eight-five percent didn't care much about the traffic on the road.

"Are you going to share?" I asked her, struggling to force at least _half_ of my brain to focus on the conversation.

And really, I wanted to hear her story.

It was just her hand on my thigh…

There were hundreds or thousands of times that we'd been in a car together, but this particular time was my new favorite simply due to the location of her hand.

"I went out with this guy one time," she began.

"I'm not liking the story already," I teased. She laughed and clenched her hand lightly and I pushed down harder on the accelerator again, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I was in tenth grade," she pointed out. As though the fact that it happened nearly thirty years ago was supposed to make me _less_ jealous. "Anyway, we were bored and wanted to do something reckless, so…"

"I'm going to have to stop you right there," I interrupted.

"Why?"

"Is this a first-time story?"

She erupted into laughter again, and suddenly all of my focus was back on _her_, where it should be, instead of just on her hand, because I love the sound of her laugh, and I love that I can make her do it, and there was so much more to this whole thing than what she could do for me physically.

"This is a criminal story, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," I said with a grin. "Okay, go ahead."

"Anyway," she said purposefully as she got back into her tale. "We were bored, so we went out to the airport..."

"JFK?"

"No, too big. We went over to Teterboro."

"And did what?"

She sat back in her seat, and I instantly mourned the loss of her touch, but at the same time, I was too curious about what it was that fifteen-year-old Alex had done on a date at the airport.

"We tried to steal one of the lights off the runway," she said at last. "You know, the blue flashing lights along the edges?"

"Are you kidding me? That's a felony!"

"Well, it would've been if I'd actually stolen one," she pointed out. "But I didn't. You know, those suckers are bolted down pretty good."

"Why?" I asked, finally able to look at her now that we were at a stoplight.

"Why did we try to steal one?" she questioned. I nodded and she shrugged and said, "I don't know. Something to do. It was either that or make out in the backseat of his car, and I don't know…he wasn't all that cute."

"Oh, so you were superficial," I joked.

"Absolutely," she agreed with a grin.

"And now?"

"Now, not so much."

I wasn't sure how to take that remark.

She didn't care about looks, and that's why she was interested in me?

Somehow that felt like an insult.

Sort of.

"So…"

"I mean, it's not the _only_ thing anymore," she clarified. "Back then, I didn't care if the guy could string two words together as long as he was cute and dangerous and someone my father wouldn't like very much."

"And now?" I asked again, curious to hear how she'd describe her current ideal man.

"Now he has to be really smart," she said, turning towards me in her seat.

I could feel her eyes on me, but I kept my focus on the road. Well, five percent of it anyway.

The other ninety-five was completely tuned into her.

"And he has to have an understanding and appreciation for my job," she continued. "And a good sense of humor."

"That's it?"

"That's not enough?"

I needed to stop fishing for something that wasn't there.

And really, was it such a terrible thing that she doesn't find me physically attractive?

We're mature adults.

It's about the connection, not looks.

And then suddenly her hand was right back there on my thigh again. And she was leaning towards me over the console, and then I could feel her lips against my cheek.

"That's all I _need_," she said. "Devastatingly handsome is just an added bonus."

And I know.

She was talking in a general, abstract kind of way instead of specifically talking to _me_, telling me that _I_ was all of those things, but still…it was kind of the same thing I'd been doing when I told her that I lied to Gyson.

We were both trying to be brave about taking additional steps.

"So that's the kind of man you're looking for, huh?" I said with a smile. "Well, let me know if I can help you with that."

By this time, I'd somehow managed to get us safely to my building, and I was lucky enough to find an empty parking spot.

"I think you probably can," she said in response to my tease, and as I cut off the car and turned to look at her, she tightened her grip on my thigh and brought her lips to mine, leaning more fully over the console as though she couldn't get close enough.

I can understand that.

She wasn't close enough for my liking either.

But the kiss…it had me rooted to my seat because as much as I wanted to go inside where we could maybe do _more_, I also didn't want to stop, our heat from earlier having been instantly rekindled as soon as her mouth touched mine.

I turned my whole body sideways in the seat so that I could get my arms around her and then I inadvertently hit the steering wheel, causing the car horn to blare.

We pulled apart, both of us laughing.

"Are we going inside, or what?" she asked me, still smiling beautifully after managing to get her laughter under control.

"It's kind of hard to get out of the car when you're kissing me like that," I teased.

"And _I _can't get out of the car until you come around and open the door for me, remember?" she fired back.

God, I love her sarcastic wit.

I stared at her for another moment, and then I leaned over and kissed her again, this time lightly and quickly, before unhooking my seatbelt.

"Come on. Open my door or I'll do it myself," she warned.

"Are you in a hurry?" I asked as I reached for my door handle. "And you're really going to threaten me with the refusal of chivalry?"

I didn't wait to hear her response, but instead climbed out of the car and went around the back so that I could open her door.

Because I was kind of in a hurry, too.

She had me worked up six ways to Sunday, and the realization that we were finally going to do this…

Although maybe finally isn't the right word.

We've only been technically sort of dating for a week, if you count back to the time we actually set up the date instead of when the first date occurred.

But still…it _felt_ like finally because I guess subconsciously I've wanted her all along.

And it felt even _more_ like finally when I let us into my apartment and she was instantly all over me, and I'm not complaining because as I'm sure I've mentioned, she's really, really good at this and the fact that she's so anxious to get to it was making _me_ even more anxious, but then I also didn't want it to be over too quickly.

We've waited too long for me to be ready to blow my cork after only a few minutes.

"Slow down," I managed to say, even though she'd started kissing the side of my neck in a way that made me want to say anything _but_ slow down.

"I don't want to," she argued.

She kept kissing me as her hands found their way beneath my shirt so that I could feel her fingers against my back, and for a moment I completely forgot about my plans to slow down as I held her captive against my front door, which was all the farther we'd gotten once we came inside.

"I know, but…" I said at last, and really by this point, I was already forgetting about slowing down and all I really wanted to do was move into the living room because we needed to do something to negate our height difference and getting horizontal was my best solution at the moment.

"Don't talk," she said. "Let's just do this."

And the way she said the words had me finally cluing into the big picture.

She was _shaking_.

And she was in a hurry because…she wanted to get it over with?

I pulled back from her, not too far but enough so that I could look her in the eye.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

"I'm fine," she said immediately.

"Alex…"

"No, I'm…it's just…um…it's been a long time, so I guess I'm a little nervous, but I'm fine. Really."

Her quiet, honest declaration, combined with the closeness of her and the scent of her and the feel of her arms around me all served to make me love her even more.

In fact, I felt such an overwhelming rush of emotion that the words suddenly wanted to escape on their own volition.

But I managed to hold back.

Saying them now would make it seem like I was trying to talk her into my bed.

So instead I settled my hand against her cheek as I forced my racing heartbeat back to a more manageable rhythm and I said, "Let's watch a movie. And maybe we can order some take-out."

"Are you changing your mind?"

"No. But we said we weren't going to rush it, and…well, I don't want it to be something we hurry through just because we're over-anxious. I want to enjoy getting there, too."

Thirty minutes later, we were definitely enjoying _getting there_.

We were sitting together on the couch, completely ignoring _Hollywood Homicide_, which was the DVD Alex had picked out.

I'd teased her about it briefly.

"_You just think Harrison Ford is cute."_

"_Maybe a little_," she'd replied, but then she'd stepped back from the DVD player and joined me on the couch, sitting right next to me.

In fact, she leaned into me as she pulled her feet up beneath her.

"_You know he's old, right?"_

"_That's debatable_. _But he lacks a certain something, though_," she mused vaguely, resting her head against me as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. I could feel her relax fully as she added, "_This is really nice_. _A movie was a great idea_."

So we watched.

For at least fifteen minutes.

And then she'd stretched one leg out, as though it was getting a cramp from the bent position, and she put it across my lap, so then I casually set my hand on it, still holding her comfortably against me.

Big mistake for a man trying to show restraint.

Especially a man who has trouble sitting still.

So I started stroking my fingers along her bare leg, lightly at first and mostly in the vicinity of the back of her knee and then it's possible that I moved a little higher and when I did that, she snuggled up against me even tighter than she'd been before.

"_Lacks what_?" I asked in an effort to strike up conversation so that I could shift my focus away from my raging hard-on and instead think about…anything else.

The question was random and incomplete, considering her remark had been made fifteen minutes ago, but Alex and I don't always need explanatory sentences, and this time was no exception.

But when she looked up at me with those light brown eyes of hers that suddenly looked golden because the rays from the fading sun were streaking through the back window and lighting up her face, and she said, "_He's not you,_" that's when I knew that there was no shifting of focus or forgetting about my current state of arousal, because she was once again right there with me.

And the vague generalities were gone. She'd been quite specific with her words.

I stared at her for a moment longer, mostly because I don't think I've ever seen her look more beautiful, and then I slid my hand higher up her leg, hugging her to me as I leaned down to kiss her.

And it was slow and easy and passionate and I was consumed with the need to make this last forever.

She shifted, scooting over onto my lap without breaking our kiss, and I couldn't stop the groan she elicited from the increased contact, and I now had both hands under her dress, gripping onto her butt and pulling her tighter against me.

"This is okay?" she asked me breathlessly when I dragged my lips down to her throat.

"Okay? This is…this is…so much better than okay."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," I answered, and her uncertainty combined with her earlier nervousness was starting to click with me, but my fogged-over brain was having trouble putting the final pieces together, and then she brought her mouth to mine again, and rational thought was lost as she rocked against me and kissed me with renewed passion that was rapidly pushing me over the edge.

And then my cell phone rang.

She backed away slightly, but I went with her, not ready to end things just for a pesky piece of equipment.

"Bobby," she said between kisses. "You should get that."

"The only person worth talking to is sitting right here."

She smiled and then closed her eyes in pleasure as I ran one finger beneath the silk of her panties, along her backside.

"It could be work," she reminded me, although she didn't make any move to get off of my lap. In fact, she eased closer to me, and so I moved my whole hand underneath that still as-yet-unseen garment.

Of course, I didn't mind not seeing it yet.

Feeling was so much better.

"If it's work, he'll call back."

And he did.

My phone went silent for one whole glorious minute while we continued to work each other into a frenzy and then it started ringing again.

She sighed heavily and sat back as I reluctantly withdrew my hand from under her dress.

My phone was still in my pants pocket, so I shifted to one side enough so that I could pull it out, but with my other hand, I held her in place on my lap.

I didn't want her going _anywhere_.

"Goren," I answered.

"What'd you do, lose track of your phone? This is the second time I called."

I closed my eyes at the sound of our boss' voice, knowing that this night wasn't going to end as I'd hoped.

"Sorry. Yeah, I heard it, but I couldn't get to it."

"What the hell are you watching? It sounds like high noon at the OK Corral."

"It's…never mind. So, we've got a case?"

"Don't sound so excited. I thought you lived for this stuff."

I _did_.

Now I was more inclined to spend my Sunday evening with Alex sitting on my lap.

"You know I do," I replied.

So then I listened idly as he gave me the particulars and then I hung up and looked at Alex apologetically.

"The timing is just…"

"Sucky?" she supplied with a wry grin.

And before she could say anything more, her phone started ringing, too, so she reluctantly got up and retrieved it from her purse, which she'd dropped in the foyer.

I quickly snatched up the remote and hit the mute button because how bad would that be if we got busted before we really even got started, all because of the movie playing in the background?

"Eames," I heard her say as she walked back into the living room and then, much to my surprise, she eased back down onto my lap.

"Yes, sir," she said, running her free hand over my chest.

She used her fingernails against the fabric, and it was such a tortuous tease because I could perfectly imagine what it might feel like once we didn't have the clothes between us.

"Okay. Yeah, I have to pick Goren up, so it'll probably take us forty-five minutes or so to get out there…okay…yes sir."

She hung up her phone and tossed it to the far end of the couch.

"Well, you did say you wanted for us to take this slow, right?" I said with a smile as she leaned back down to kiss me again, clearly not in any hurry to head out to a crime scene just yet.

"Yeah, but…we were getting there," she said with no small amount of disappointment.

"Yes, we were," I agreed. I ran my hands under her dress again, this time keeping them on the tops of her thighs. "Want to come back later and see if we can…finish the movie? I know how much you like Harrison Ford."

"Let me think about that for a minute," she said playfully. "Go home alone…or come back here. With you. And Harrison Ford."

She kissed me one more time and then got to her feet.

"Well?" I asked, since she hadn't answered definitively.

"I think I'm going with option B."

"I like option B," I agreed, wrapping my arms around her from behind as she bent down to retrieve her discarded cell phone.

I was well aware of the fact that I was just tormenting myself and prolonging the amount of time it would take for my body to go back to normal, but it was worth it, feeling her up against me like that.

She stood up fully and leaned back against my chest as I kept my arms around her waist.

"Me, too," she agreed on a sigh. "And you know what?"

"What?"

"Let's forget about Harrison Ford," she said as she turned in my arms. "We'll come back here…just me and you."

**The End (sort of)**


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